


The Long Way Round

by jazzfic



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzfic/pseuds/jazzfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaylee feels two small weights bearing down inside her. One is for <i>Serenity</i>, a sharp kick she gets from the thought that someone living here might cry for being trapped, or being cold, or lost. The other is for Inara, who she loves, deeply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Way Round

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notalwaysweak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/gifts).



> For L. I started this a while back but never finished because I'm a dolt. It's not much, just a thing because you're awesome and had some tough happenings fall on you in the past few months and this is a hug I wanted to give.

“Kaylee, look...”

Inara’s voice seems to come from a far away place. Kaylee has to give a great sum of thought to the process of opening her eyes; a snug blanket of relaxation has covered her from head to toe, and she stretches her body across the silk cover of Inara’s bed, thinking how plain irksome it is to have to nudge it aside, even for a bit. 

Eventually curiosity gets the better of her, and she sits up.

Rust colored nebula dance in waves outside the shuttle’s window, beautiful as a distant thing can be. She smiles, and keeps that smile firm on her lips when she turns back to Inara. Something’s going on past those black lashes today. Some mischief Kaylee would like a part in.

But again, if only she cared enough to draw her body off Inara’s bed...

“Well, we’re headed that way,” Kaylee murmurs lazily. “T’wards the color. Gonna take some time, though. Going the long way ‘round, just as Cap’n likes it.”

Inara sighs. “As if there’d ever be any other way,” she says. It seems to Kaylee’s ears this perhaps was not meant for her, ‘stead was a thing said from Inara to Inara, a old and worn frustration she keeps shut away inside. Not that it ain’t much of a secret, Kaylee supposes; she knows Mal well enough. Knows the square peg he is. Nonetheless it prompts her to get up and cross over to where Inara stands, robe slipped from one shoulder, worrying the ends of her hair between two deep red nails. 

“I know that bitter taste. He’s got the stubborn fire in him, see,” says Kaylee, and she nestles her chin on that patch of bare skin, inhales the fragrance that’s all Inara, all of a thing perfect. “Like you.”

“Please.” Inara shakes her head, exasperated now, but she’s smiling again. “I feel like ice, Kaylee. To be perfectly honest.”

Kaylee feels two small weights bearing down inside her. One is for _Serenity_ , a sharp kick she gets from the thought that someone living here might cry for being trapped, or being cold, or lost. The other is for Inara, who she loves, deeply. “Then let me warm you, huh? I’m plenty warm...” Kaylee presses her body so it moulds into the silk. She kisses Inara’s shoulder playfully. The verbal cliche is as worn tired as the practiced lines she’s sure Inara must use with all her clients, but it does the trick. 

Inara’s light on her feet. Her hand touches Kaylee’s neck and slides across Kaylee’s cheeks and rests, presses, holds to her lips until they part, waiting and expectant. There’s nothing playful here, Kaylee realizes, trembling as the jolt this thought creates ripples through her and pools quickly, quickly between her thighs. It hums there, as if gathering until it might be let go. _Not yet_ , she thinks. Inara’s skills are such that Kaylee knows with surety that moment, when it comes, will be worth every lungful of anticipation.

“Yes, you are,” says Inara. 

The kiss is sweet. Kaylee breathes it in. It’s been a sore while since she’s felt lips and a figure like this against her; none that weren’t halo’d up in a dream, formed of a pillow and sheets and wishes for nearness she can’t have. She lets her mouth open into a sigh, smoothing her hand down Inara’s shoulder to the warm swell below. She takes her time in this, knowing Inara will give her all she needs soon enough. The kiss is sweet. 

She wants to taste it.

Inara says something in Chinese, but Kaylee can’t make it out because her breaths are heavy, so heavy now. It’s as if something is pulling them out of her lungs, or trying to, and they won’t budge. She’s going to give, it’s all going to give – 

It’s been too long. She’s scrambling, pulling greedily and ineffectively at Inara’s dress, until her hands suddenly recall co-effective function... and there she is. There’s Inara. Like beauty’s hit her square in the face. “And you really are somethin’. _Lao-tyen_...” Kaylee, feeling more than a little overwhelmed, if a little embarrassed at her own words, can’t help sighing. 

Always gracious, Inara dips her eyelashes and glances away until the unwanted flush recedes from Kaylee’s cheeks. The moment isn’t quite broken, but they move slowly after that, making exchanges, so one item of clothing is shed for a kiss, or a hand pressed low, curling into warm, wet heat. More than once Kaylee has to fight the excited trembling gnawing at her belly and thighs, the want in her surging forward. Her hands tense when Inara closes her lips there, _there_ ; tense into the sheets because she’s speeding when she’s trying to slow. She can’t slow. She’s swirling fast as the ship, and there’s the nebula, there and closer, above Inara’s dark head through the small viewscreen. Coppery colors, like a wire wrapped around a small part of the engine, her engine – _her_

Her head cranes back. She gasps, shudders. The sound of deep breaths fill the cabin and somewhere in among them, her name. Inara is saying her name. 

Her fingers find Inara’s and they hold together across the pillow. 

“That was sweet,” says Kaylee. It’s a plain and innocent thing to say, considering the moment, but she can’t help it. She giggles softly. “You’re sweet.”

She snakes her hand down to Inara’s thigh, rolling the pads of her fingers to a tune in her head. “Now... seems an uneven score I ought to settle up.” She leans forward, her tongue parting Inara’s lips, the smile there melting away. Inara, though, draws back. Her mouth dips into a shape Kaylee knows from moments watching her across the galley table, when they’re all of a group, eating protein made on the sly to look appetising.

“Not so sweet...” she says.

“I’m sorry?”

Inara looks away. When Kaylee tries to follow she finds those dark eyes have turned to a firebug, darting to places she can’t keep to, always one blink ahead.

“What I need,” Inara says, “is a distraction on this interminable long way ‘round.” She’s still a moment then seems to shake out of it, biting her bottom lip into a wry smile as she takes Kaylee’s hand and gives it a squeeze, once, like a tug that’s reassuring her own battles. She gets off the bed, fingers running through her hair until it’s a perfect, uniform wave again. Eyes on Kaylee, a rueful expression on her face, Inara straightens her clothes.

Kaylee sighs. “Ain’t got more to offer than this,” she says, waving a lazy hand over her body. 

With a sudden grin she props herself into an absurd position, legs splayed spider-like, and makes a face to match. “Besides,” Kaylee adds, pointing outside as Inara shakes her head and laughs softly, “if we stick to the shortest route, we might never see all that.”

She’s got the top of her coveralls done up when smooth arms snake around her from behind. Kaylee breathes in the scent of spice and vanilla, thinking of the list of jobs that need doing and the inevitable grumbling that’s going to come from sitting down to a tasteless dinner and relay the various nothings that have happened on this very dull day of travel, and how she can’t help loving it all. But it’s love encased in a sigh, different and more difficult for Inara in a way Kaylee knows she can never soothe. So she presses no more, and together they watch the colors pass, until there’s nothing out there but the good, good black.


End file.
